Day the Laundry Died
by Maori
Summary: What happens when it's Rodney's week to do the Atlantis officers laundry? And what exactly did this unfortunate arrangement do to Carson's pants? T for Rodney whumpage and implied indecency


This was a plot bunny that bit me during a discussion about a pic story over in ICAW(Insane Carson Appreciation Week)on Livejournal. For CelticSky. Implied Shweir, nothing real major.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Atlantis. And Carson...rawr

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"Rodney!" One very un-happy Dr. Carson Beckett of Atlantis went barreling down the hallway as said scientist gulped. It was a very appropriate fear response: having the man with the large needles mad at you would do that to a person. Especially if that man was currently on a warpath and heading in your direction. Never mind that he had no idea what the good doctor was mad about. 

"Carson… How nice to see you. How are you?" Dr. Rodney McKay, also of Atlantis, fidgeted.

"How am I? You cheeky little bugger!" Carson was practically seeing red.

McKay's eyes widened as he frantically tried to think. What had he done now? His gaze slid downward, and then no amount of thought on severe cruel and unusual punishment having to do with sharp poking medical instruments could keep the laugh in.

"Aye, you think it's funny, do ya?" Not even Beckett's infamous Glare of DOOM, mostly given to and reserved for patients trying to sneak out of the infirmary, could stem the tide of Rodney's amusement.

One Dr. Elizabeth Weir turned the corner. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned bright red, and hurried out of the room after one look at the Doc. But not before a hastily muffled snort-laugh reached the ears of said doctor, who quickly turned around but only caught a flash of dark brown hair. If anything it made him draw himself up taller and he crossed his arms over his chest. Anyone with any self-preservation would have quickly fled. It was common knowledge that Dr. McKay's self-preservation instinct was skewed at best, if prevalent in most cases. Just not this case, for the man was now wheezing and tears were streaming down his face.

Dr. Carson Beckett then did something that would be talked about in Atlantis for years to come. He stalked over to Rodney, grabbed him by the ear, and marched him down the hall. There was a shocked moment of silence before McKay's vehement protestations could be hear echoing down the corridor.

"Dammit, Carson, that hurts! I have very fragile cartilage! You could tear my ear off! Or I could have permanent hearing damage!"

There was a malicious chuckle, the likes of which no-one had heard from the good doctor before. "I hope so, lad. It doesn't hurt nearly as much now as it will if I donna get my pants back!"

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard cautiously poked his head around the corner. "The coast is clear," he whispered, before slowly walking into the now empty hall. Elizabeth was only a few feet behind him.

"I don't think I've ever seen Carson that upset." Dr. Weir's voice was slightly awed.

"I so don't want to be Rodney right now. Whose idea was it to put him on laundry duty anyway?" John didn't think much of that person at the moment; his socks were now pink. He just hoped the Marines never got a good look at his new footwear.

"Colonel Caldwell, if I'm not mistaken. Something about Dr. McKay doing some real work around Atlantis for a change." Dr. Weir wasn't happy either. Pink was an okay color, but not when leeched into a nice beige teddy.

"He did work alright. He managed to ruin all of Beckett's pants, most of Radek's, and I think one or two of Major Lorne's."

"And almost every piece of light clothing in the city is now pinkish."

Sheppard's face suddenly lit up in a huge grin. Elizabeth only quirked one eyebrow at him, questioningly. "Totally worth it to see Beckett in 'No one does it like a Scot' shorts though."

Lizzie's grin was now bigger than John's. "What, you didn't see the back?"

Thehazel eyes narrowed at her. "What were you doing looking?"

She snorted, her green eyes laughing at him. "Dating you, but not blind."

Sheppard rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest before asking the inevitable question. "Alright, so what did it say?"

"Unless the Scot's a Doctor."

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So, whatcha think? Feedback, of any kind, is always welcome 

Maori


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